


For Your Eyes Only.

by SS98



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Airports, Bottom Harry, Bottom Louis, Closest I'll get to, Doctor Louis, Dorky Harry, Famous Harry, Flights, Jerk Harry, M/M, Muffins, Normal Louis, Sassy Louis, Sorta Rom-Com, Top Harry, Top Louis, cocoa, for a bit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-21
Updated: 2015-12-21
Packaged: 2018-05-08 04:26:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5483324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SS98/pseuds/SS98
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on that flight Harry took for 10 hours beside a fan with a dash of Larry angst.</p>
            </blockquote>





	For Your Eyes Only.

**_[A/N: Had a dream about this. Hoping it's good enough....? Lol based off that thingy where a fan got to spend ten hours on a flight with Sir Styles o.O. Grr. - S xx]_ **

"Liam, I'm fine. Stop being such a grouch." Louis spoke with a pout into the receiver of his phone, juggling his flight ticket and small satchel in the other hand.

He's going to work over the festive season in London from New York where he had his last appointment to offer his services as an anesthesiologist for three weeks. Being who he is after over a decade of dedicated studying has brought him to the top of his game, but he still wishes he'd be able to get more rest in.

"Lou, it's Christmas." One of his three best friends is nagging him to turn down the chance to work in the UK and just come home for Christmas.

The thing is, Louis has no one to spend the festive season with besides his three besties and they're all going to abandon him for their partners sooner or later. He'd rather be occupied with work than the constant heartache of being alone because his career came first.

"I know, Li. I'll be home as soon as I can." Louis tries to convince the man on the other line, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as his flight number is called.

"Okay well-"

"I've got to go, Liam. I'll call you when I land in London, okay?" Louis grabs his suitcase and coffee, slinging one strap over his shoulder and ignoring the buzz of life from someone popular arriving. "Tell Niall I've got his gift but I can only give it to him when I get there."

"Alright." Liam sighs heavily. "Love you, Lou. Be careful and have all the fun you can."

"Will do. Love you too." He returns the casual greeting before hanging up and handing his ticket over the woman at the boarding gate.

There seems to be some reason behind why there's excess noise behind him followed by the echo of the airport terminal, but he was already shutting his eyes in exhaustion. This ten hour flight in business class could be the best thing that's come his way in a while.

"Thank you. Have a nice flight." The woman says to him, her attention however hardly focused on returning his form of identification as she looks over his shoulder at a new attraction.

Louis soldiers up the walk-way and into the aeroplane, taking the attendant's directions towards his seat. He's so grateful to have spent that extra couple bucks and gotten a seat that's part of a small booth structure. It was like a little cove with the seats curved inward and pillows on the set of white cushioned seats, space for a little more luggage than usual. 

He drops his bags at the foot of the seat by the window and drags the pillow across his lap, the comfy attire of Adidas sweats and a hoodie being ideal for a long rest.

Whilst booking the ticket and even up until the moment he boarded the plane, Louis didn't think about the prospect of a person sitting next to him. He supposed it could be anyone who will be busy with their work while he napped. Unfortunately, those plans are tossed aside along with the bags that land with a thump on the ground beside Louis'.

They're brown and black leather coming from a man Louis' never met in person but wanted to all his life. He just manages to maintain a professional composure by not dropping his jaw and turning into a major fanboy. 

_Harry Styles._

The voice behind the half a dozen albums Louis has back home in his empty apartment. Louis has been Harry Styles' fan for as long he could remember, taking up so much time procrastinating so he could watch a livestream or send random Tweets. It's his one escape from the pressures of work, his only one. 

"Hi." He manages to politely greet, sticking his hand out suddenly at the figure of masculine glory. 

Harry is a good guy. Louis knows this. He smiles with those charming dimples and deep green eyes, pale skin like angelic marble and long fingers that wrap around Louis' so comfortingly. "Hello. I'm Harry."

"I-I know." Louis does the unnecessary by pulling Harry's pillow off his seat so the man can sit. "I'm Louis."

Chuckling, Harry takes a seat and unscrews the cap of a bottle of Evian water. He turns to Louis before bringing it to his lips. "Would you like some, Louis?"

Louis figures out that he's been staring and probably shouldn't. He clears his throat in the hopes to redeem himself, cheeks turning a delicate pink as he smiles shyly. "No, thank you."

Harry drinks in peace and Louis' hands hardly shake at all when he's handing back his pillow. He understands that Harry wants to be treated as a regular chap on this flight because who wouldn't be? He gets to share seats with Harry Styles and he's not going to blow it.

"So...-" Louis lifts the shield covering the window, crossing his short legs on the seat easily.

"Yes?" Harry presses, evidently amused by the boy beside him. 

Louis opens his mouth, thinks his question to be stupid, and closes it again with shaking his head. "Nevermind. I'm sorry."

"You can ask me, love." Harry's hand brushes Louis' but it's just on its way to screw the bottle closed again. "If we're going to be on this flight together, we might as well become friends."

"Friends?" Louis didn't think he sounded so awed and squeaky when he said it out loud.

Harry's laugh was deep and husky but it came from a male who was so light-hearted and fun. Louis thought him to be a walking paradox sometimes. He bit his lip nervously and looked down at his fingers in his lap.

"Let's be friends." Harry extended his hand formally and Louis grinned when he shook it. 

"I'd like that." 

Louis got his hand back and held it tightly between his clamped thighs. He gets to be _friends_ with a man who has everyone chasing after him. 

"Were you causing the commotion in the terminal a few minutes ago?" Louis doesn't want their friendship to start off rocky, and talks through their take-off.

"I suppose I was." Harry seems completely relaxed with being lifted to over thirty thousand feet in the air. 

"I almost didn't get my passport back." Louis takes a sip of his own water bottle, compliments of first class.

"Oh?" Harry's crooked grin is stunning and Louis finds himself involuntarily blushing again. He's never had such remarkable eyes concentrated solely on him before.

"Yeah." He replies lamely, picking at his nails and hugging his knees to his chest. "Wasn't your fault though. Being famous must suck sometimes."

"It definitely is." Harry says after raising his two fingers and whispering something to the flight attendant. He takes his phone out after than but responds to Louis still. "Would you know anything about that?"

"Are you asking if I'm famous?" Louis giggled. He didn't mean to but it slipped out and Harry's eyes briefly flickered toward him.

Harry nods, going back to desperately tapping at the screen of his iPhone. Louis' pretty sure it's the largest in its range but Harry has really big, very pretty hands so there's no scale factor.

"I'm not." Louis rubs his sweaty palms down his thighs. "Just a um- regular Joe."

Harry nods again, a little more distracted this time because something caught his attention on his phone screen. Louis exhaled sadly and felt conflicted about what to do next. He drank more water. 

"So where are you going?" Louis tries again, hoping to repair what's been damaged by his poor self.

"Same place as you." Was Harry's clipped response.

"Yeah but-" Louis made a strange circular hand motion. "-the UK is pretty big, even for a popstar."

"Yeah it is." 

Louis nods and thinks up another question, already thinking of the major possibilities that could come from them being close friends. How cool would it be? 

"Harry, can I ask you something?" He quickly thinks of something, feeling silly to the bone. 

He's got his celebrity crush next to him, what kind of idiot would he be if he didn't take advantage of being as friendly as can be? It would also be a heck of a story to tell Niall and Liam.

"Okay." Harry replies with, barely glancing up from the lit-up screen of his phone.

"What's the scariest thing you've ever done?"

Harry looks at him a little quizzically. He really looks at his seat master and finds himself forgetting his phone, dropping into those liquid crystal pools with the tiniest crinkles from the owner's smile. What a strange question. 

"What?" He instead hears himself say, watching the smile of the questioner fade away at the corners.

"The scariest thing?" He says again, picking at the folds of his personal quilt. "Rollercoaster or skinny dipping or something else?"

Louis really doesn't know how he isn't flipping his calm and turning into his younger self that spent extra cash on Harry's albums and posters. 

"Um...-" Harry chuckles, raking his long and agile fingers through the silky locks of hair. "I guess a rollercoaster."

"Really?" Louis grins, briefly glancing out the window at the sight of New York shrinking. "Mine is-"

Harry woke up with his phone at his ear and walked down the isle once they were safely in the air, leaving Louis alone and feeling silly. The boy sighed to himself, pulling his own little woollen blanket over his lap with his Macbook. He feels like an idiot for being repulsive enough in conversation that Harry had to get up and leave. He's never been _the best_ at socialising because his job kept him indoors.

After two minutes of Harry walking up and down the isle on his phone and Louis checking his emails because it was an international flight and somehow Wi-Fi was catered for in first class, he felt the familiar and unfriendly tugging of his bladder.

"Crap." He popped the 'p' sound in the word and shoved his belongings off his lap. 

Upon realising that they landed on Harry's seat and his gut turning sourly at the reminder of their conversation, Louis removes everything. Maybe he's going to just leave Harry alone. Like his lack of money or time to ever go to a concert of the celebrity's, he may never be appealing enough to befriend. It's not hard to believe when he has three friends from pre-school and a dating history of naught.

He gets up and stretches briefly, ignoring the other passengers as he pulled on his Vans and made his way towards the lavatories. Halfway there, he has to either squeeze past a known pair of hunched shoulders with that rekindled thud in his chest or stand there patiently. He decides that he's too impatient and desperate to choose the latter, so reaches up to tap Harry's shoulder.

Louis freezes mid-air when he hears a bit of the man's conversation with whoever he's on the phone with. 

"Yeah, mate. I've got someone next to me this time." He stays quiet for a short bit. "I _told_ him to book both seats."

Louis sucks his bottom lip into his mouth. He just decided to leave Harry alone. What's with the obnoxious side of Harry? 

"Annoying? Nah. He's fine. Won't fuckin' shut up though." Harry sounds like he's laughing after that, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Yeah he knows who I am. Little pathetic too by the way he's trying to talk me up."

The gravely and sultry voice has never spoken more unsweet words. Louis frowns and feels an arrow sheath himself in his heart. Was he _that_ stupid that he deserved hate? He didn't think so. Then again.....he's never taken the risk of starting a conversation before.

"Fuck." Louis hears next and looks up from where he's trying not to let his eyes water up, staring at the threads on a seat. 

He looks up and finds Harry looking at him for the first time since saying all those awful things. The taller male says something in parting to his conversation partner but Louis walks away before he can say anything to him. He won't hear it. He also doesn't want to embarrass himself with the tears forming where they are threatening to spill over.

"Hey-" 

Louis shuts the door on Harry's face and locks it with a latch, jumping when Harry's hand comes down on their barrier. He sniffles and stares at his shoes, feeling utterly annoyed at himself. He scratches his arms with blunt nails and returns to the business he planned, resolve to give Harry what he wants hardened.

He feels profoundly miserable when he has to go back to his seat. Standing where he is, Louis wonders if Harry is still on the other side of the door or not. He wonders if Harry cares enough to apologise. Fame changes people and the person he's seen in interviews smiling with adorable dimples and greasy hair isn't real.

His worst dreams come true when he's actually back at his seat. Harry is there waiting for him, sitting forward with his elbows on his knees. He stands up when Louis arrives and the boy doesn't understand why at all. Ignoring it as best as he could, he gets onto his comfortable chair again wordlessly.

"Hey Louis, I-" Louis looks at him impassively while Harry's sentence broke. "I'm so sorry."

"Sorry that you said it or that I heard it, Harry?" Louis decides his best foot forward as he always has when dealing with dilemmas at work. He is the best in his field and God damn this man if he takes that title away from him.

"Both." Harry turns in his seat towards Louis, looking truly down about his guilt and has his hands clasped together like he's asking for forgiveness. Those beautiful green eyes become pearls of misery and Louis wants to forgive him. 

"It's okay." Louis curts and resumes his comfortable position in his seat, laptop on a small cushion on his knees. 

"Really?" Harry sounds disbelieving. 

Louis nods and doesn't look at him. Harry knows he's forgiven just a little bit but not forgotten. He lost the bubbly boy beside him. 

"Lou, I feel-"

"Excuse me?" Louis cuts him off, fingers pausing over the keypad. He still doesn't look at Harry. "I don't appreciate the petnames. We're not friends, Harry."

Harry's _really_ lost the boy next to him who was sugar-coated and energetic. This person was poised and professional to a cold extent.

"Fine. I'm sorry." Harry deals with cold people all the time and doesn't feel like handling one now so he drops the whole issue.

Louis gives him a sickly fake smile and turns back to his work, reading over the PDF's he's been sent by the head surgeon at the hospital he's going to be working at for a short while. He finds a discrepancy in the handwritten report and picks up his idle iPhone to call someone about it.

"This is Doctor Tomlinson." He looks out the window as he speaks to the nurse. "I'd like to speak with your chief of surgery, Doctor van Vuuren."

He doesn't notice Harry stop working on his own laptop to look his way, eyes a little wide as he took notice of Louis' tone and qualifications. 

Louis gets his intended host on the line and smiles so that it shows through his voice, greeting the man formally before clearing his throat and starting with his enquiry. "Doctor, I see that you've scheduled the appendoctomy for ten on Monday morning. My flight only gets in at nine."

The inconvenient time doesn't seem to deter the man in charge, who insists that the surgery be done at that time to allow for sufficient healing time so the patient can return home for Christmas. What about Louis' Christmas? He's got three surgeries in a week and a lecture for some students to have to write their board exam. 

"Okay fine." He masks his yawn with a nose sniffle and rapidly blinking. "I will see you at ten tomorrow."

"I look forward to it." 

Louis hangs up and checks the amount of battery life his phone has before locking it, plugging it into his laptop to keep the forty remaining percent alive.

"You're a doctor?" He suddenly hears from his left, having to look up tensely from him keyboard to Harry's spellbinding curious gaze. 

Louis doesn't feel a little smug at the thought that he impressed Harry. He won't concern himself in that anymore, won't get his hopes up for people who don't care genuinely.

"Yes." He answers him with eye-contact before looking down again, the disinterest irking Harry further. 

"What kind of doctor?" Is the popstar's next question.

As much as he wants to feed Harry a taste of his own rude medicine, Louis won't stoop to that level ever. "Anesthesiologist."

"That's.....amazing." Harry hears himself say in awe to the pretty boy on his right. He offended _a doctor_ who was being a little too excited. He's a dick. "Your last name is Tomlinson?"

Louis nods and doesn't give Harry any other indication of his attention. He's coolly detached now, and it bothers Harry to no foreseeable end. Louis was perfectly polite but didn't give in to the bait he set out. 

He goes out on a limb. "I prank called Elton John."

The statement seems to be enough to grasp Louis' unwarranted focus for a while. Turning his head to the side, Louis' lips turn into a circle as he struggles to comprehend what Harry means. "Pardon?"

"The scariest thing I ever did." Harry clarifies, ringing his fingers together and crossing his legs. 

"Okay." Louis laughs softly and Harry has never been more offended. "That sounds daring enough."

"What's the scariest thing you've done?"

"I don't remember." Louis tells him, looking back at his fading laptop screen only after he spoke. 

"Louis, I really am sorry. For saying that." Harry abruptly says to him, the naked weight of such a burden making him feel like a gigantic monster.

Louis was so beautiful and so hardworking. How could Harry ever insult the only specimen of such a human being? He's never that rude to a stranger and much less physically attractive ones. He hardly knows Louis but the boy is sweet as pie and had his heart broken by him. 

"I know you're sorry, Harry, and it's okay." He hears Louis say, just barely touching his arm as blue met green.

"It's not." Harry wants to give Louis forehead kisses so he never frowns this way again. "I was a bastard and I never am."

"Yeah well-" Louis turns his folded legs so his knees face the window, blanket and computer still in place. "-it's done now. Can we let it go?"

"Am I forgiven?"

"Yes."

  
* * * * *  


"You said I was forgiven!" Harry crowed three hours later when he solidified the conclusion that he actually was still very much on the hook for his behaviour earlier.

"You are." Louis thanks the flight attendant for his food and goes back to his work, doing every last detail so he doesn't look unoccupied.

"Then why won't you talk to me?"

"For Christ's sake." Louis drops his fork. "Leave me alone, Harry. I don't want to talk to you."

"Well if I'm forgiven then you're just being rude." Harry fires back, dead-set on knowing what's up with this boy.

"Rude? I answered all your questions."

"In monosyllables."

"What does it matter?"

"It matters that you haven't forgiven me yet."

"I'm human, Harry." Louis looks him in the eye, unaffected by the fame or good looks of this human being. "You hurt me by saying those things."

Harry loses a little bit of the air in his bubbled ego after that. "I'm sorry, Louis."

"I know you are." Louis forces a weak smile onto his face. "And it's okay now."

"But it's not." Harry re-opens the issue that Louis just wants to forget about so he can get off this flight. 

"Can you please stop talking about this? You're forgiven."

"I can't." Harry ignores his food to prod at Louis' patience. "Nobody's been this angry at me besides my mother."

"Fine. I have a solution." Louis closes his laptop and wakes up, forgetting his food because Harry made him lose his appetite, and takes up the empty seat in the next isle.

"That's not what I meant!" Harry shouts to him, irrespective of the fact that there are other busy people on board.

Louis looks at him with a tiny glare and puts his earphones in that are connected to his laptop, curling up on the seat like a comfortable kitten. Harry ruins all of that happiness by plonking down in the seat next to Louis, casually not dropping both their plates of food.

"You didn't eat." Harry pulls Louis' small table down for him. "As your seat partner, I'm responsible for you eating."

Louis looks at him like he's both an idiot and maybe there's a hint of adorable amidst all the arrogance. He takes his plate and mutters his thanks, placing it on the table for later consumption.

"You're not hungry?" Harry frowns. Louis was hungry two minutes ago.

"Not really." Louis plays with the rice in his plate. "Feeling queasy."

"Why?"

"I don't know." Louis shrugs. "I've flown for this long before so I probably am hungry."

"That doesn't make sense." Harry starts eating when Louis does. "Doctors don't make sense."

"Yet the world needs us." Louis takes a sip of complimentary water. 

"It does." Harry grins at him but only gets a small smirk in reaction to it from the boy. "How often do you fly?"

"At least twice a month." Louis replies. "You?"

"Including this month?" 

"Yes."

"So you're going home for Christmas?"

"No." Louis knows where this is leading and he looks down at his plate as the anticipated question comes.

"Then-" Harry's brows knit together. "I don't understand again."

"I'm going to London for my job." He explains quickly. "My home is New York."

"So you'll be.... _without_ family for Christmas?"

"Yes. I studied for thirteen years knowing I'd have to do stuff like this so it's okay." 

"It isn't." Harry shakes his head like he's personally wounded. "You're travelling alone. No partner?"

"I don't think that's any of your business, Harry." Louis picks up some not so spicy chicken.

"We've got six hours left. It's a harmless question."

"Fine. No partner." 

"Oh." Harry already has half his food down, having no problem with talking and chewing. "Me too."

Louis laughs softly. "Why not?"

"That answer is easy, Lou. Can I call you that now?"

"Sure." Louis doesn't regret saying it. "What can I call you?"

"Anything you want as long as it's not....you know, mean."

"Okay then." Louis chews his lip mischievously, sparing a glance at Harry's hair. "Cocoa."

"What?" Harry's brain short-circuits. "Why on Earth would you call me that?"

"Your hair reminds me of cocoa." Louis shrugs his shoulders and eats more. "No backsies."

"Cocoa." Harry sounds out the word. "I should have chosen a funnier one for you too."

"You can try." Louis folds his legs on his seat. "I'm not that edible."

That, he does regret saying because Harry immediately breaks out into a cackle that makes Louis guffaw and lightly swat his arm.

"I didn't mean it like that!" Louis doesn't do anything when he shoves the man, cheeks reddening at the implied meaning. 

"I know, Lou." Harry gives him a reassuring but notorious smirk. "It was still funny."

"Ugh." He groans, returning to his cold food before it's simply not pleasant. 

He gobbles it all down now and hands back an empty plate when the attendants come around to collect them. His hunger reappeared once he and Harry were on good terms again. He'll admit it's a lot more peachy than what they were before.

"Spend Christmas with me." Harry suddenly proposes and Louis nearly spits all his water out. 

"What?"

"I'm serious." Harry turns around in his seat, facing Louis like a giddy child. 

"You don't _know_ me, Harry."

"What's the worst you can do? It's just a meal."

"With your family."

"Nah." Harry waves away the word dismissively. "Just us."

Louis' never heard of this kind of tradition. "Why would it be just us?"

"My family hates me. I come from a broken home. All that garbage. So how about it?" 

Louis fishmouths for a few minutes. Harry wants to spend Christmas with him. That's pretty much his biggest dream summed up in one question, but it's a big opportunity. He's working the day before and after Christmas so he's available on the actual holiday.

"O-Okay." He stammers. "If you don't mind, I mean-"

"Lou, I wouldn't have invited you if I thought you'd be imposing. Now, do you know how to make a Christmas dinner for two?"

  
* * * * *  


They've just landed at Heathrow International airport and after a quarter of a day spent chatting pointlessly to Harry, Louis is sad to say goodbye. He's got Harry's number inserted into his contacts and a ridiculous photo to go with. 

"Butters first." Harry extends his arm out in the direction of the plane's door. 

Louis laughs and carries his bags out. "Try again."

He forgets that the man is a mega star up until the two bodyguards show up at the end of the mobile stairwell. They're broad and scary and Louis wants to leave before anything major happens.

"Bye, Harry." He touches the man's arm and secures the strap of his bag on his shoulder. 

"Wait, Lou." Harry stops him from walking off, but is still muttering things hurriedly to his bodyguards. "Can we take him?"

"Harry." Louis knows what this means. He wants to burn the nub before a stupid idea is born. "Harry, no."

"I wouldn't recommend it, Harry." The fellow with a black jacket and buzz-cut tells him. "The cameras are swarming outside."

 _Paparazzi._ Louis is mildly claustrophobic at the thought of being shoved around in a large crowd of people with bright flashing lights. He gets Harry's hand off when the man is distracted by something else and walks away speedily before he can stopped again, little bits of joy getting tramped under his shoe with every furthering step. 

Harry was a wonderful escape to the world of easiness. He made Louis forget about his responsibilities for a short while and that's what he needs after being between surgeries and flights for six months. It's been a hectic year and he more than once forgot where his home was.

"Lou!" He hears his name being shouted across the echo of reunited families and friends. 

"Jesus." He mumbles to himself, watching Harry in dread as the lean individual weaves through people with two exasperated bodyguards on his tail.

Harry only comes to a full halt when he's right in front of Louis who has his lips puckered and eyebrow raised. The cameras outside the glass doors go off on a frenzy, shouts and screeches ensuing everytime the doors open for a person who has business in the airport. 

"Why did you leave, muffin?" Harry stands so much taller than Louis that it's both intimidating and ideal. 

"I'm going to be late." Louis glances at his plain Casio digital watch for emphasis. "I have to work."

"Today? You just got in."

"Yeah." Louis hears the announcement of his luggage coming on the carousel. "I've got to go, Harry."

"Okay." Harry brightens at the thought of another spectacular idea. "Can we have coffee tomorrow?"

"It'll have to be a late one." Louis says apologetically. "Around three."

"I like three." Harry nods, both employed bodyguards putting their hands on him as the crowd thickens around them. "Three it is, muffin."

"Okay then." Louis grins and turns around. "Bye, cocoa."

  
* * * * *  


_Two Years later...._

Louis just got home to their apartment being filled with smoke and the smoke detector going bonkers on the ceiling. He hurried into the kitchen where he knew the problem was. Naturally, he discovered Harry kneeling on their kitchen counter with a broom poking at the smoke alarm.

"Um-" He paused in the passageway, lips quirking into a fond smile. "What ya doin'?"

He goes to help Harry switch the oven off before opening all the windows and returning to a revived kitchen. Harry is wearing his favourite grey hoodie with sweatpants when the weather outside is insanely hot, the thermostat in their apartment adjusted to a chilling low degree.

"What are those?" He asks his mercurial boyfriend once everything is calmed down and he's faced with a tray of black mounds. 

"Muffins for my muffin." Harry embraces him from behind, kissing Louis' neck where he knew he was most sensitive. 

"I'm guessing-" Louis picks one up by its jagged, hardened corner. "-they were supposed to be chocolate."

"Yeah." Harry says, deflated by his defeat. "You shouldn't leave me alone with the kitchen."

"I shouldn't leave you alone at all." Louis corrects, turning around in Harry's arms to give him a kiss on those rosy lips. 

Harry squeezes Louis' hips and lifts him off the ground, content with the smell of sanitiser and chlorine that always comes with his little boyfriend. He wraps Louis' legs around his waist by force and deepens their kiss so that he's left without breath and Louis with pink cheeks. He'll never tire of tasting his boyfriend's body.

"We can make new ones." Harry drums his fingers on Louis' bum, unaffected by the choice of location. "Together."

"We can." Louis twirls some of Harry's curls. "As long as you promise to behave yourself."

"No." Harry pouts adorably, the memory of every failed cooking attempt turned sexual escapade on their counter or cabinets coming back to him. "What is meant to happen will happen, muffin."

"You're my goofball, cocoa." Louis messes up Harry's hair and gets his feet back on the ground. "Come on, let's make those muffins."

They happen to survive the whole baking process. Harry is most accurate in his ingredients ironically, while Louis dunks things into the bowl just to annoy Harry. He also uses the wrong spoon to put the dough into the tray which turns Harry one shade below red. 

"Aw." Louis realises he may have pushed too far with the spoon thing, and soothes his upset boyfriend with peppered kisses. "I'm sorry, cocoa."

"It's fine." Harry snatches the incorrect utensil and dumps it in the sink vengefully, handing Louis the right one. "Now do it."

"Bossy." Louis takes the offering and gets to work, leaving just enough dough behind in the bowl for Harry to eat raw. 

Harry spanks Louis' bum and the boy surges forward, gasping with a glower at the other male.

"What was that for?" Louis asks purposefully, sliding the tray into the oven and setting a timer. 

"You said I'm bossy." Harry meets him in the middle and pecks Louis' lips, tasting the suspicious traces of chocolate. "Thought I'd prove it."

When Harry cups Louis' behind through his black pants with both hands digging into the flesh, he sucks in a sharp breath and bites Harry's bottom lip. He hates that Harry knows exactly where to start pulling him apart. 

"How was the show?" Louis asks when he's found the willpower to pull away from a firm chest and strong arms.

Harry stalks after him, making him squeak when he's hauled off the ground and flattened on their dining room table. He stares up into emerald stones that have blackened with lust. "Not as good as you're going to be."

**_[A/N: I wrote this on the road. I apologise for the choppy-ness and short length. - S xx]_ **


End file.
